


The water and the moon are calm; if only people were so

by olympia_m



Series: Between two places [28]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olympia_m/pseuds/olympia_m
Summary: Things are never easy between these two, but they manage...Moved here from my 'box of sweets' since it's not that short a story, after all....





	1. Chapter 1

“So many fireworks,” Oriya sighed happily.

“And not many people.” Feilong leaned on the side. “Wasn’t it a good idea to see the fireworks from my yacht this year?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Feilong smiled. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Oriya move. A moment later he felt him hug him from behind. “We’ll be seen,” he grinned.

“I don’t care. Why should I hide how I feel for the sake of propriety when everyone knows that we’re together?” Oriya nuzzled him. 

He smiled. “Sounds like someone has already made and started implementing a New Year’s resolution.” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” 

Feilong reached for Oriya’s hands, laced their fingers together and slid their hands in the pockets of his coat. “Fireworks still make me feel like a child, full of anticipation and excitement. Isn’t that funny?”

“No, I think it means your heart is gentle and young.”

Feilong frowned. If his heart were truly gentle, he wouldn’t have left Oriya a prisoner to his House because it suited him. He squeezed Oriya’s hands. 

“Have you made a New Year’s resolution?”

“No. I don’t need the New Year to make decisions about what I want to do with my life.”

Oriya laughed. “That sounds very confident and wise.”

“And you?”

“I made one in December. I don’t have to make another now.”

Ah, after that whole weird business with Muraki. He didn’t dare ask what Oriya had decided then. “I thought you’d spend New Year’s Eve at home, or with Muraki and Ukyou,” he said instead. 

“But you’re my lover. Why would I rather be alone or with those who’ve left me behind?”

“Because you have work, and you still love them.” He knew he sounded bitter but he couldn’t help it. 

“Yes, but I’ll always have work and I’ll always love them. But you…” Oriya unlaced his fingers from Feilong’s, took hold of Feilong’s arms and turned him around so he could face him. “You are my most precious person. Of course I’d rather be with you.”

Oriya always looked so earnest when he said that he loved him. Feilong sighed. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to feel worse than that December morning, but there he was, feeling like the most despicable person in the world. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Oriya kept staring at him, asking him with his eyes to trust him. 

The weight of his guilt kept getting bigger and bigger under that calm, open gaze. “I… I… ”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Whenever you want. Whenever you are ready.”

Feilong looked away. How could he admit to what he’d done? 

Oriya hugged him. “Whenever you want,” he repeated and then leaned closer. Feilong closed his eyes, and half-opened his mouth. Oriya kissed him on the forehead, and then his closed eyelids. 

Feilong raised his hands until he reached Oriya’s face. He caressed him. “I love you so much,” he sighed. But not enough.

Oriya’s hold tightened. “Do you have any idea how you look right now? How devastatingly beautiful? ” He whispered in his ear. “How much I want to make love to you?” 

Feilong smiled despite himself. “And there I thought you’d manage a whole day without sex.”

Oriya snorted. “So, fireworks or your cabin?”

“If you can wait for thirty minutes we can make love back home.”

“What if I start here and we can continue at home?”

Feilong nodded. Sex wouldn’t make his guilt lessen, but it would help him sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Feilong reached for Oriya. His side of the bed was empty. Damned early bird. They’d gone to bed at three, what was he doing up at … eight? Feilong closed his eyes, sighing. His stupid, early bird that loved him so much. 

The night before Oriya had taken him in his cabin, then his study, and then his bed. Sex had helped him sleep, but this morning Feilong felt so loose everywhere, he suspected he’d been broken and reassembled, but his pieces were not joining properly anymore. 

He reached for Oriya’s pillow and pressed his face against it. It smelled of him. If he were a better man, he would have set him free. If he were an honest man, he would have told him the truth. Instead he lied and lied, and hoped that by surrendering his body, he’d give something valuable to Oriya. But wasn’t that a lie too? 

He liked it when Oriya took him. He didn’t give anything he didn’t want to give in the first place. Surrendering his body was not a sacrifice, or a gift. It was the act of a selfish man. Because he liked it so much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was past ten and Oriya was staring outside, an open book on his lap and a cup next to him. He mumbled something like ‘good morning’ and Oriya turned towards him, smiled, stood up, and left the room.

A few moments later Oriya came back with a tray in his hands. Feilong sat up. “Breakfast in bed. You are spoiling me.”

Oriya smiled, pulled the folding table over Feilong’s lap and then the tray. “Good morning. Happy New Year.” He kissed him as he sat down and then poured Feilong some tea.

“Happy New Year to you too.” He drank a little. “Sencha? Ah, I can take you out of Japan, but I can’t take Japan out of you.” 

“Why would you want that?” Oriya asked him laughing. “Or, don’t you like me as I am?”

“It was just a joke.”

“Ah.”

He pulled up the lid of the soup bowl and stared at a very Japanese-looking soup. So, the soba the night before was just the prelude to a Japanese New Year’s day. Feilong grinned. “Did you bring your cook with you or did you persuade mine to cook this?”

“I brought my cook,” Oriya grinned as well. 

“Then, do give him my thanks. This looks excellent.” Seeing Oriya so happy at his words made Feilong think that he was lucky Oriya’s cook was a great cook; he’d eat the worst food in the world for that smile. 

That made his guilt return. He forced himself to finish the soup. “I was wondering,” he said softly, “if you could, would you stay here?”

“You know I can’t leave Kokakurou.” 

“But let’s say that something happened. Maybe a fire? Something, and Kokakurou was no more. Would you come and stay with me?”

Oriya frowned. “I don’t want to think about things that cannot be.”

“Please, for argument’s sake… discussion’s sake, whatever.”

Oriya glanced towards the study. It took less than a second, but Feilong caught it. “I would. I go where the cherry trees are,” Oriya smiled. 

Feilong froze. That fucking cherry tree in the study. If he burned down the one at Kyoto, the one here would survive, and Oriya would exchange one prison for the other. And that would make him feel even guiltier, because it would be tying Oriya to him, without even giving him the option of returning home. “And if there were no cherry trees?” he asked even more softly. “Where would you go?”

“There have always been cherry trees. Why are we even having this discussion?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you fed me soba last night, and now this, and I suspect there will be more Japanese food in the near future. Is there anything more Japanese than cherry trees? Or your House?”

“I see.” Oriya smiled at him again. “You know that cherry trees live for thirty, maybe forty years? Rarely do they reach a hundred, and very few live longer than that. Ours is at least three hundred years old, maybe older. No one knows. It’s always been there.” Oriya shrugged. “I can’t imagine life without it.”

“I see.”

“Actually,” Oriya grinned, “I think I can answer your question now. About what I would do if something happened to Kokakurou. I would come here, yes, but I would be sad. It’s my home. You’re home too, but in a different way. I would be happy with you, but I would miss it. Does that make sense to you?”

“But…”

“I hate my job, not my House, Feilong,” Oriya said far too reasonably. He suddenly smiled. “Finish your breakfast. I have plans.”

Feilong picked up his cup and hid his smile behind it. It seemed that this bird had been caged for too long. He wouldn’t feel guilty anymore for letting it stay in its prison. Ah, it seemed he could make a New Year’s resolution after all. 

“What are you thinking?”

“That I don’t want to change anything about you.”

Oriya gave him a slow, warm smile. “Good. Because I want to be bossy today and do so many things with you. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

Feilong nodded. It seemed that he too was in a cage; but now that he knew it, he would live in it.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite his resolve, by early afternoon Feilong felt so guilty he couldn’t focus on anything. It was all Oriya’s fault, of course. Annoying Oriya, who’d given him a long bath, then massaged him until Feilong felt that his body had become liquid, and then fed him more exquisite food prepared by his chef. 

“Do you do anything else but eat on New Year’s day?”

“No, not really. New Year’s day is one to spend with one’s family. We eat, watch films, play games. Simple, relaxing things.” 

“It’s very domestic.”

“Yes, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Oriya, can you play a game with me?”

“What kind of game?”

“Don’t look so suspicious.” Feilong sat up. “Can you hurt me?”

“What?” 

“Don’t scream, please. I’m not a nice person, Oriya. My guilt…” 

Oriya made a small sound and looked away from him. His expression changed into one of unhappiness. “What do you need of me?” he whispered. 

“I need you to punish me. I did something and,” he sighed. He still couldn’t say it. “Please?”

“If you want to atone for a sin, why don’t you do a good deed instead? Give money to charity. Be nicer to your people. Be kind to strangers. Hurting you won’t change anything.”

“Perhaps it will. How would you know?”

Oriya frowned. He suddenly stood up pulling Feilong with him.

“Where are we going?”

“Your training hall. If you want to be hurt, I will hurt you.”

Feilong let Oriya pull him across the loft and down to the training hall. He was certain his wrist would have finger-shaped bruises later, but that was what he needed. 

Oriya pushed him into the hall and then threw a practice sword at him before getting one himself. He bowed slightly. “Should I attack or do you want to start?”

Despite himself, Feilong grinned. “I’ll start.”

Oriya smiled. “Come.”

Five minutes later Feilong had to rethink his idea. “Stop, stop,” he shouted. 

Oriya pulled back a blow and stepped away from him. 

“I’d forgotten what a freak you are with a sword,” he said as he sat down. His arms hurt, his shoulders hurt, his ribs hurt, his legs hurt. 

“So, you’ve had enough?”

He stood up, holding on to the sword for support. “No. Just give me a minute.”

Oriya snorted and attacked him. 

Fuck. He barely managed to parry the coming blow, but he failed to stop the next two. “Seriously, stop it.”

“Have you had enough?” Oriya looked like he hadn’t even broken a sweat. 

“Yes.” He fell down again. “You’ve been holding back, haven’t you? All the times we sparred in the past.”

Oriya shrugged, which meant ‘yes’. “Are you ready to talk now?”

“About what?”

“Your guilt.”

Feilong took a deep breath. It hurt. “I think you broke a rib or two.”

“Doubt it. I wasn’t putting that much force in my hits.”

Feilong glared at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you’re changing the subject.”

“Yes, I am.” Feilong looked away. Being beaten hadn’t satisfied him; perhaps he needed a different kind of hurt. “You’ll hate me if I tell you,” he whispered. 

Oriya knelt in front of him. “I love you, Feilong, that won’t change no matter what.”

“Even if I told you that I know how to break the curse that binds you to Kokakurou but I will not?”

“Excuse me?” 

Oriya’s voice sounded small. Feilong looked at him; he looked paler than Feilong had imagined. “I can’t, don’t ask me.”

“Don’t ask you what? What do you know, Feilong?”

Feilong shook his head. 

Oriya pushed him to the floor. “Fuck you,” he growled as he strode out of the training hall. 

Feilong stared at the ceiling. He deserved that. And more. He sighed. So much for love, but then again, why should he expect anything else? Didn’t he claim to love Oriya? His love only went that far as well. 

&*&*

Feilong shut himself in his study after a long bath. He didn’t even let Tao come in. Two hours later he realized he was sulking. Three hours later he was annoyed at himself. Four hours later he felt so, so stupid. Five hours later he decided that Oriya was probably not coming back, and he was staying who-knew-where until he could fly back to Japan. Fuck his stupid life and his stupid mouth. 

Just as he was about to call Tao and ask for dinner, his phone rang. “Liu-laoban,” Wang told him, voice breaking. 

“Yes?”

“Please, please, when Master Oriya comes back, please agree to whatever he wants. Please.” Wang was almost crying. 

“Yes, alright,” he frowned.

“Thank you, thank you.” Wang hang up. 

Ten minutes later his phone rang again. “Am I still welcome?” Oriya asked him. 

“Of course. Do you want me to come collect you?”

“No, I’m downstairs.”

“Then come up.” Ah, how much of an idiot was Oriya? In his place he would have burned down his house instead of asking if he were welcome. He sighed. Oriya was a very big idiot that loved him stupidly. How lucky he was. 

A few moments later Oriya came in, closed the door and stared at him. “I don’t know what,” he started.

“I’m sorry,” Feilong said, cutting him off. “Sorry, please continue.”

“I had a long walk,” he said, “thinking about what you said. And what you didn’t say.” He sat down. “If you broke the ties that bind me to Kokakurou, what would I be like? I don’t know. In any case, I suspect you wouldn’t be able to, even if you wanted to.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I think you’d need to have Muraki’s powers to break my ties to my House.” Oriya sighed. “If you went against it, I fear it would kill you. Please, don’t.”

“But Muraki said….”

Oriya snorted. “Of course he knows as well. Fine friend he is. Well, then, maybe you would be able to, but I don’t want you to risk it. Please.”

Feilong nodded, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. With these simple words his guilt finally disappeared, and all that was left was wonder at… “You really are a fox, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“A fox spirit.” Fox spirits were deceitful tricksters, but when they fell in love with a human they were the most loyal and devoted of lovers. Like his Lord Fox. 

Oriya laughed. “I’m me. What have you been reading again?”

“Nothing. Have you had dinner yet?”

“No. But my chef has made something special for tonight.”

“Of course he has.” 

“One more thing and then we can eat, alright?”

“Of course. Just one more question. What did you do to Wang earlier?”

“To Wang? Nothing. I just asked him if he knew a place where I could burn some energy after my walk, and he suggested a training hall where your men often train. So, I just went there and practiced for a while.”

“He was crying when he called me.”

“Maybe because he sent some men over to help me burn my excess energy and then realized how your men need more practice in one-to-one fights?” Oriya ran his hands through his hair, grinning. “I don’t think they’ll call me ‘your wife’ again.”

Feilong snorted. 

“Now, for that other thing,” Oriya said. “I think you do deserve to be punished.”

“Really?”

“Yes. For not talking to me, and feeling guilty over things best left alone. So, yes, I will definitely punish you.”

Feilong widened his eyes. “You mean…”

“Yes. Your naked ass, my palm. Wonder what will get red first. Up.”

Feilong took a deep breath. He really was the luckiest man on earth. He followed Oriya to the bedroom and started stripping himself without waiting to be asked. 

Oriya sighed. “You really are a pervert.”

“Yes. Punish me for that too,” he smirked. 

Oriya pushed him down on the bed. “I might,” he said and slapped him once. 

It stung but it was the suddenness of it that had bothered him the most, not the pain. “Should I say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry’?”

“What do you need to say?” Oriya asked as he fondled him. 

His flesh already felt sensitive to Oriya’s touch and Feilong sighed. What did he need to say? “I’m sorry,” he said. 

Oriya slapped him again on the same spot, this time putting a little more force. “Why?”

“For not doing what I could.”

“No. That’s not it.” This time the hit was even stronger.

Feilong gasped. “Why?”

“You tell me why,” Oriya struck him again, even harder. “Why did you feel guilty?”

Feilong shook his head.

Oriya hit him again and again. Each time he hit a different part of his ass, and he even hit the place where his thighs met his bottom, and his thighs too. Each time he asked ‘Why?” and Feilong could do nothing but cry out, until his voice cracked and he started crying. It hurt and hurt and hurt, and the pain was spiraling inside him, but it was nothing like what he’d been feeling since December. The tears helped, though; he felt like he was washed in them, and his guilt flowed with them. 

“Why?”

“I don’t love you enough,” he suddenly shouted, as he kept crying. 

Oriya stopped as suddenly. “You only love me as you can.” He kissed Feilong on the small of his back, and then his kisses slid lower. His mouth soothed where his hand had hurt him. “I don’t need anything else from you.”

“Shouldn’t you?” he whimpered. 

“Why should I? That you love me is miracle enough.” Oriya sighed. “That’s enough for me.” 

Feilong looked back. Oriya was studying his back. No, his ass. 

“Don’t move,” Oriya told him. “I should put some cream on you.”

He frowned. “That’s it?”

Oriya ran a gentle finger over Feilong’s back. “Do you still feel guilty?”

Feilong’s frown deepened. Did he? “No,” he said, surprised. “I feel… I don’t know how I feel.” He pulled himself up and lay down on the bed, hugging his pillow. “You should want more.”

Oriya snorted. “Do you?”

“Of course. I want you. I want what you can give me. I want what your House can give me. You can give me part of Japan. I want it.” He threw away his pillow and grabbed Oriya’s. It smelled of his perfume and Feilong took a deep breath. “I want everything.”

“I just want you.”

Feilong closed his eyes, feeling the sting of more tears. How lucky was he? When Oriya hugged him, Feilong let himself fall asleep. He felt tired. And fortunate. And tired. So very tired.


	4. Chapter 4

When Feilong fell asleep Oriya went and notified his cook that dinner would wait. Then he poured himself a glass of whisky, took the bottle with him, and went to watch over Feilong. His anger had been burned during his walk, his annoyance during his sparring, and his frustration while he was spanking Feilong. All that remained was his bitterness. 

After Muraki’s miraculous return he’d resigned himself to serving his House for all his life. To know that both his best friend and his lover knew how to break the curse that bound him to it, and yet they chose not to do a thing, hurt. It hurt so much. It had angered him too, but it mostly hurt. Like a slim dagger thrust in his chest, between his ribs, it physically hurt. 

He finished the glass and poured himself a second one. He’d rather hurt than be afraid of losing them; Kokakurou was a powerful opponent and he didn’t want to see either Muraki or Feilong go against it. But gods, he needed to be drunk - at least for this night. Until alcohol burned his defeat and fear and bitterness.  


Feilong slept so peacefully, arms wrapped around what was Oriya’s pillow. His hair, a long, black drape that covered most of his face, could not conceal his smile. 

“The things we do for love,” Oriya whispered. Feilong and Muraki had sold him for love of power and he still loved them enough to forgive them. “I’m not drunk enough yet,” he continued, filling his glass. But he would make himself drunk enough soon, he would. And in the morning, he’d kiss Feilong and make love to him and be happy that Feilong loved him as much as he did. The gods knew no one else did.


End file.
